


Self-Medicate

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean likes Cas' curls, End!verse, Fluff, M/M, petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean won't take drugs, that's Cas' domain, but that doesn't mean he won't take what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Medicate

**Author's Note:**

> Own nothing, it's all Kripke's fault.
> 
> Transferred from tumblr

Cas stretched near a table, another orgy to take his mind off of things. He’d run out of a lot of the drugs he’d been stashing, though he suspected that may have been someone stealing them. Sometimes it was tough being the only one who had means for escape in the camp. They could at least fucking ask, though. In all his fuming he managed not to hear the intruder in his cabin. Not that he’d have been able to hear anyway, Dean had taken his shoes off and was stepping very softly.

Dean took a quick step forward and pushed Cas against the wall, pinning him there with his body and knocking the wind out of him. His friend started scrambling for a way out, but Dean’s hand swatting his ribs stopped him.

“D-Dean?” Cas calmed and gave in, his body relaxing against the larger man.

“Well, if there’s anyone else who can sneak up on you like that then I sure as fuck want to know.” Dean’s voice was low and smooth, it reminded Castiel of the good whiskey they used to be able to get. The stuff that had gotten him smashed the first few times he ever drank as a human.

“What are you doing here? I have an orgy in a few minutes.” Cas wasn’t actually that perturbed. Sure it was mildly annoying that his oldest friend was currently crushing him into a wall, but he figured Dean would leave in a few minutes and let him get about his business.

“No you don’t. I told the ladies not to come back in here today. They listened.” He could feel Cas stiffening against him.

“You what?” His voice was harsh, not raised but clearly angry. “Dean, why would you do that?” Cas started thrashing again, knocking over a nearby fold-out table. He was pushing against the wall with all the strength he could muster, but he knew it was pointless. If Dean Winchester wanted you pinned, you stayed pinned.

Dean chuckled and his fingers tickled the back of Cas’ neck. Castiel stilled again, shocked by what Dean was doing. Anymore people didn’t judge each other for who they slept with. With croats and Lucifer and death around every corner, there wasn’t exactly room to judge people for their bed warmers. The first week after everything went to shit Dean had been quiet, but then one day he kissed Cas out of the blue and made him swear to never leave. Of course Castiel swore and as much as he complained about being human, he’d still do all the same choices. It was Dean, his hunter, his human and nothing would change that. He and Dean had shared a few nights to this point, but Dean wasn’t exactly tender. He was usually stressed and Cas knew how to unwind him best.

It took him a few seconds to realize why Dean was practically tickling him. His hair was gently being tugged, the curly ends being fiddled with around the nape of his neck, the ones higher up practically being petted.

“You cut your hair too often. You should stop that.” It was about as close as Cas would ever get to hearing Dean say the curls were cute, but it was there between each syllable nonetheless.

“Okay.” His voice was quiet now, unsure. If Dean had wanted to admire his hair he didn’t have to stop his orgy to do so.

“I think too many people get to touch you.” Dean yanked him from the wall with one arm across his stomach and roughly threw him to the bed. “One of those people hasn’t been me for a long time.” He was pulling his shirt over his head, Castiel was watching, not entirely sure what to do.

“So, what, you want to claim me?” His voice was a bit disbelieving, he knew Dean could be possessive, but this? This was weird. Dean didn’t really care about Cas, not beyond him being his oldest friend and confidant. It was something he could respect and having spent the four years plus in a drugged haze he didn’t bother looking too closely at his own feelings on the subject.

Dean plopped down on the bed, his shoes were gone, Castiel was just noticing. Explained how he’d been so damned quiet. His shirt was off, the brand on his left shoulder exposed. Cas wanted to reach out and touch it, just like every time he saw it. He restrained, though, just like every time.

Dean’s eyes were on his when he looked back to his face, studying him. He grabbed his arm firmly and began pulling him forward. It wasn’t rough, just insistent and Castiel relented to it. Dean pulled him until he was practically in his lap, then he began running his fingers through Cas’ hair. There wasn’t much thought after that, just Cas enjoying the touch. It reminded him of when Dean had helped him wash his hair after he broke his arm, but much gentler, a bit more thoughtful. His fingers would linger at the ends, where the curls were forming.

A gentle press of lips against his neck, one that just happened to also press on a curl, shocked Castiel out of his daze and made him stiffen. “Dean, what are you doing?”

He could feel the lips against his neck curl into a grin. “You always take what you need to relax and feel better. I’m just doing the same.”

Cas closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing and think for a damned minute. Those lips were driving him mad, though, they wouldn’t let up. Every few seconds they’d move to a new spot and he’d hear a little smooch. It was a foreign feel, tender and warm and he didn’t know what to do with it. “If you… if we do this, Dean, and you leave and pretend it didn’t happen it’s going to kill me.”

Dean’s nose nuzzled into the bottom of his hairline and Castiel could feel himself breaking, tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t know if it was agony or relief, but either way the feeling was clawing at his chest, despite the drugs that were supposed to numb him. “I won’t. I swear.” One of Dean’s hands moved back up and rough fingers were against his scalp, soothing and admiring. “I promise. I won’t leave. You didn’t leave me.”

Cas smiled, the tears falling down his face. It was relief and agony, and for once he didn’t mind feeling it.


End file.
